"It's a fine line between crazy and clever" --
"Auriculara (Listen To Me)"

Mark Doyon makes me look up words in my dictionary. It is one of
his many endearing qualities.

In addition to being master of the
Wampus
Multimedia universe
(recording/manufacturing/distribution/marketing/graphic
design/who-knows-what-else), Mark employs the pen name Arms Of
Kismet to issue discs of witty, idiosyncratic indie-rock that is to
a band like Maroon 5 what a film like
Sideways is to one like
Miss Congeniality 2. In other words, zealously off-center,
moderately acidic, daringly intellectual and vastly
entertaining.

Last year Arms Of Kismet issued the terrific
Eponymous, winner of
multiple raves from yours truly. This
time around, the secret word is "Auriculara," as in things
encompassing the act of hearing, also known as the first song on
this eclectic disc. The range of tones, textures and production
quirks Doyon applies to these songs is endless fun to deconstruct,
but the framework is singer-songwriter roots-rock. Imagine Tom
Petty and Beck throwing a party for Todd Rundgren and you might be
getting close.

"Outbound Train" has a Pink Floyd-plays-rockabilly feel as
Doyon's nimble picking lays over a bed of loops, his laconic vocals
and surreal lyrics lulling you in between bursts of found sounds
and electro-shock guitar. Its sequel "Clover" starts out in the
same rockabilly territory, but goes all dreamy on the choruses as
our narrator takes some sort of psychological inventory. Doyon's
characters are in fact often found in the process of stopping to
assess their lives and the twists of fate that keep them moving
forward; it's an approach that any fan of irony and synchronicity
can't help but appreciate.

Later on, "Coil" features tightly-wound Knopflerisms, "Life
Imitates" startles by pairing bright acoustic chords with dark
lyrics ("Frozen images of fatal scrimmages / I am a voyeur of pain
and grief"), "Cracks" delves into creepy trip-hop, and the deeply
sardonic "Pinnacle Of Same" offers an anthemic ode to mediocrity.
As for "Clarendon," it's such a spot-on Petty-Lynne-Harrison-Dylan
pastiche it makes you want to nominate Doyon as an honorary
Traveling Wilbury.

To flesh out the relatively modest length of the album (35
minutes), Doyon employs a framing device, using the backbeat from
"Auriculara" as a backdrop for amusing radio snippets that feature
as tracks four and eight and also figure in the end-of-the-show
overture that is the closing track "Listen To You." It's a device
that didn't wow me, but is executed deftly and makes sense in the
context of this disc.

What
Cutting Room Rug might lack in quantity, it more than makes
up for in quality. These are songs to not just listen to, but
explore, a series of musical masks donned by an artist with keen
insight and an outsized sense of playfulness. Doyon's world is a
little bit crazy, a little bit clever, and a lot of fun to get lost
in for a half hour or so.

[
To learn more or to purchase this album, visit Arms Of Kismet at
www.wampus.com.]